


The Mercenary

by VivaLaPrussia



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Gency is only mentioned, M/M, Meihem is only mentioned, Vigilantism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-16 23:29:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8121787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VivaLaPrussia/pseuds/VivaLaPrussia
Summary: Hanzo Shimada disliked many things. Hanzo disliked the New Mexican town he ended up in, he disliked the dry desert air, and he disliked his brother’s constant phone calls. But most of all, Hanzo disliked getting work calls at 2:37 in the morning.Alternatively titled: Self-Indulgent Vigilante VS Detective AU Where They Fall In Love At The End





	

**Author's Note:**

> I originally started writing this for my own fun, but then my friend read it and said it was good and it blossomed into this monstrosity. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy!  
> (PS I did not have anyone really thoroughly beta read this so if you catch something funky please let me know!)

i.

_Thump._

_Jingle._

_Thump._

_Jingle._

The wood of the crate was starting to rub Sam’s arm raw and she wished she would have chosen a better hiding place than squeezing between two crates. Though, it was probably in vain. Sam could hear The Mercenary drawing closer, making his way through the rows of illegal arms, whistling a tune as he walked.

_Thump._

_Jingle._

_Thump._

_Jingle._

Sam looked down at her arm, where the wood was rubbing against her arm. There on her forearm the word ‘Rebel’ was printed in bold lettering. Sam sighed; was not even a full-fledged Deadlock member and she already messed up a job. But then again, The Mercenary took out bigger targets with less effort. Sam was suddenly pulled from her thoughts when the jingling stopped.

“You better come out, kid. I don’t wanna burn you up with this place,” The Mercenary said voice slightly muffled. When she did not come out he continued, “Unless you have a death wish, then by all means, stay where you are.”

Sam gulped, tried to steady her breathing and squeezed back between the crates; but almost retreated when she first caught sight of The Mercenary. All of the reports were correct, he looked like he walked off the screen of a western. A tall figure draped with a black duster and wearing dirty jeans with a holster at his hip; on his head was a black Stetson and wrapped around his face was a bandana. The bandana was decorated with the lower half of a skull, making it appear that The Mercenary was Death himself.

“Howdy,” The Mercenary greeted, tipping his hat to Sam, “You’ve got ten minutes to scoot out of here before I light ‘er up.” The Mercenary turned on his heel walked back the way he came.

Sam stood still for a moment; in complete disbelief that The Mercenary did not gun her down on sight. Sam looked around for a moment, taking in the drafty warehouse; she did not know what to do. In a snap decision, Sam took off in the direction that The Mercenary went. Sam caught up with him after a short while but had to walk fast to keep up with The Mercenary’s long strides. Sam noticed the spurs on his boots, jingling as he walked.

The Mercenary turned his head to look at her but kept walking, “You’re with Deadlock?”

“Yes,” she nodded, “They haven’t finished the tattoo yet, though.”

“Good.” The Mercenary mumbled, turning his attention back to the direction he was walking.

Sam followed The Mercenary outside, where she saw he had a canister of gasoline ready. The Mercenary grabbed the canister, uncapped it and began to pour it on the walls by the door. Sam stepped away, and stopped a few paces back, watching him. Sam was unsure of what she should do; if she should do anything. It was not like she could stop him.

The Mercenary interrupted her thoughts, “Hey kid, light this for me.” Sam looked at him to see he was holding out a cigar and a book of matches to her. She quickly took them from him.

Sam struggled lighting the cigar, as she had only seen it done in movies; after burning her fingers twice she got it ignited. Sam quickly tried to puff on it to keep the flame from going out but erupted in a coughing fit.

The Mercenary chuckled a bit before setting down the canister and taking the cigar from her, “Good job, kid.” He pulled down his bandana and placed the cigar between his lips; the darkness and his hat still hid his face. “May I have the matches, please?” The Mercenary asked, holding his hand out to Sam.

Sam placed the matches in his outstretched hand, which she noticed was metal rather than flesh. Carefully, The Mercenary lit a match, then promptly threw it into the puddles of gasoline. The fire burst to life immediately; Sam took a few steps back to avoid getting burned and then watched the flames dance and crawl up the sides of the building.

“Kid,” The Mercenary began; Sam turned to look at him, “Deadlock is finished. I suggest you no longer affiliate with them because I’m coming, and I’m bring Hell with me.”

Sam watched as The Mercenary turned and walked off into the night, a silhouette illuminated by flames, leaving her with a burning warehouse, an empty gasoline canister, and the smell of Cuban cigars in the air. She had no idea how she would explain this to the police when they arrived.

 

ii.

Hanzo Shimada disliked many things. Hanzo disliked the New Mexican town he ended up in, he disliked the dry desert air, and he disliked his brother’s constant phone calls. But most of all, Hanzo disliked getting work calls at 2:37 in the morning.

Hanzo groggily reached to the night stand to turn on a lamp before answering his cell phone. Groggily, Hanzo slid open the lock screen to answer the call. Hanzo couldn’t even get out a greeting before his preppy coworker’s voice assaulted his ears. Lena was a wonderful detective and cop, and Hanzo enjoyed working with her, but, God, he could not stand her this early in the morning.

“Lena, you need to slow down,” Hanzo mumbled into the phone whilst rubbing his eyes, trying to get use to the light.

“Sorry about that, Boss.” Lena apologized with a small laugh, “We got ourselves another arson, but good news: We have a witness.”

“Understood, I will be there in a few minutes.” Hanzo hung up before Lena could shout her ‘See ya soon’s in his ear.

.

Lena was the first to approach Hanzo when he arrived on the scene, “Hiya, Boss!”

“Hello, Lena,” Hanzo nodded, “What is the status of things?”

Lena pulled out her steno notebook and ripped out a page of notes and handed it over to Hanzo, “The firefighters know the fire was arson, but they need to do a full report; I’ll get that to you ASAP.” Lena put away the notebook and continued, “There was a witness this time. A teenage girl who was in the warehouse; apparently The Mercenary talked to her.”

Hanzo looked up from the page of notes, “He talked to her?”

“Yes, sir,” Lena nodded and gestured to a police cruiser parked nearby, “She’s in there. We waited for you, so she hasn’t been questioned yet.”

“I will talk to her.” Hanzo folded up the page and put it in his pocket while approaching the vehicle.

A teenage girl was sitting in the back of the police cruiser, her knees pulled to her chest, bobbed, dark hair falling in her face as she stared ahead at the wire divide in the car. Hanzo gently knocked his knuckles against the window and her head shot up to look at him. Her brown eyes looked nervous as she assessed him; Hanzo gave her a small wave before opening the door.

“Hello,” Hanzo held out his right hand to her, “I am Detective Hanzo Shimada.”  

After a beat of hesitation, she shook his hand, “I’m Sam.”

“Nice to meet you, Sam,” Hanzo gave his best non-threatening smile, “May I sit back here with you?”

“I guess.” Sam answered, scooting down the bench seat to give Hanzo room to sit. Hanzo took a seat next to her, but did not immediately start questioning her.  

Hanzo had learned that teenagers do better when you gave them space; when you start questioning them immediately they clam up. Hanzo quietly observed her, seeing the soot marks on her fingers and further up her arm the word ‘Rebel’ inked black in her flesh. The t-shirt she wore was definitely borrowed; it seemed to hang off her frame like she was a coat hanger. Hanzo looked at her face next, her cheeks seemed to still have some baby fat on them, but her eyes were tired; too young to be that tired.

“How old are you, Sam?” Hanzo finally asked.

“Seventeen, sir.” Sam answered, a polite, uncomfortable edge in her voice.

“And you are from here?” Hanzo continued.

“Yes, sir. I was born here.” Sam said. Before Hanzo could ask another question Sam interrupted him, “I know you want to know what happened, so can we skip the questions about me?”

“I do want to know about what happened, but I’d like to know about you too.” Hanzo answered.

“Why?” Sam asked looking at Hanzo.

“So we can help you.” Hanzo replied. Sam looked away from Hanzo and bit her lip. Hanzo assumed that she was surprised to get help; most kids out of gangs had to fight tooth and nail for everything they had.

“Okay,” Sam turned back to look at Hanzo again, “You can keep asking me questions.”

Hanzo nodded, “Do you have any family, Sam?”

“No,” Sam paused and then corrected herself, “Well, not any that would be happy to see me. My parents are dead and my aunts and uncles haven’t had anything to do with me since Deadlock.”

“We will see what we can do to help you,” Hanzo said, “Now, how about what happened tonight?”

“I just started with Deadlock,” Sam admitted right away, “This was my first night doing something by myself—guarding a warehouse—it was supposed to be cake walk. Around one o’clock, I heard a back door open and I snuck around to see what it was and there was The Mercenary.

“He saw me, and I took off running. The Mercenary has killed a lot of Deadlock Rebels and I didn’t want to be the next one buried. He didn’t chase me though, he just calmly strolled through the warehouse until he found me and warned me to get out or I’d burn with it.”

“That was nice of him.” Hanzo’s voice laced with dry humor.

Sam snorted out a laugh before she continued, “I didn’t know what to do, so I just followed him out. He asked me if I was a part of Deadlock and even had me light a cigar for him as he dumped gas on the place. After he lit it on fire, he told me to stop with Deadlock because he was coming to get them.”

“Hm,” Hanzo rubbed his at beard, “Did he look any different from other reports?”

“Nah, he was exactly how people say; straight outta western movie. He did take off his bandana to smoke the cigar but it was too dark and his hat was in the way. I couldn’t see a thing.” Sam moved on to playing with the hem of her shirt sleeve. “He smokes Cuban cigars; if that helps at all.” Sam offered.

Hanzo smiled slightly, “You never know, with forensics it might help.”

Sam was quiet for a moment before she asked her own question, “Am I gonna go to jail for being a part of Deadlock?”

“It is not likely,” Hanzo looked at Sam closely, seeing the worry in her eyes, “You are still a minor, and as long as you have not killed anyone you will be fine.”

 

iii.

Hanzo read over the firefighter’s report in his cramped office. They had come to the conclusion that this fire, like all the others, wasn’t lit to destroy the warehouse or its contents. It was starting to become clear that The Mercenary wanted draw police attention; as to why, Hanzo could not figure out. If The Mercenary wanted to notify the police of Deadlock activity, why did not just come to the police?

Hanzo was unable to think over the question, as Lena popped into his office. “Can I help you, Lena?”

“Yeah, Boss.” Lena made herself comfortable, leaning on the door frame, “The teenager that was at the scene, she doesn’t have any legal guardians that we know of.”

“I am aware, just contact child services like we always do.” Hanzo said. Lena bit her lip, looking dissatisfied with Hanzo’s answer. Hanzo looked at her before rubbing his eyes, “Do you have a problem with that?”

“Yes, sir,” Lena stood up straighter and took a few steps into the office, “Sam has a lot of information and is really important to this case. The Mercenary might come after her if he decides she’s trouble for him; and not to mention, she just turned coat on Deadlock, once they find out she’s good as dead. She needs more protection.” Hanzo looked at Lena, who was standing with her hands on her hips, unmovable.

Hanzo sighed, “Fine, go find an agent for her to stay with.”

A huge grin spread across Lena’s face, “Thank you, Boss!” She practically bounced out of the room.

Hanzo sighed before laying down the reports on his desk. He needed a drink. Stood, grabbing his jacket and left the station. While passing Lena’s office, Hanzo saw Sam curled up on the small couch, fast asleep.

.

Hanzo pushed open the door to the bar and found it in its usual state—dimly lit with neon signs advertising alcohol, old, crackly, country music playing and the faint smell of cigarette smoke. The regulars were in their claimed spots, drinking the same liquor. Hanzo picked a spot at the end of the bar, away from the regulars.

“Howdy, Hanzo,” the bartender, a friendly Jesse McCree, greeted. “Want the usual?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Hanzo said, “I need to return work; I will just have tea.”

“Got it.” Jesse replied as be grabbed a glass and prepared the ice tea.

Hanzo almost grimaced. He always forgot that in America tea was cold and on ice most of the time; but he thanked Jesse for the drink anyways. He didn’t want to offend the American. Hanzo drank his tea and let Jesse talk his ear off. Hanzo did not usually did not tolerate annoying people; but Jesse McCree was an exception.

Jesse McCree was a man born in the wrong century, Hanzo decided. Jesse was rarely seen without a Stetson on his head, beard trimmed occasionally, a ridiculous belt buckle, and he always wore cowboy boots (sometimes, he even wore spurs). Jesse had an infectious laugh and a smile that lit up a room; an easy charm of a Southern Gentleman what made everyone happy. There was something about the Cowboy that made it easy for Hanzo to tolerate him; which is why Hanzo always drank the iced tea even when he wasn’t fond of it.

“How has work been for ya, darlin’?” Jesse asked Hanzo when he paused to roll up his sleeves.

“Same as always.” Hanzo replied, frowning at the endearment. All the while, keeping his gaze on Jesse’s arms.

Jesse’s arms always fascinated Hanzo, even before they were introduced; Jesse’s left arm was metal. Watching how the metal fingers moved and flexed was astonishing, and Hanzo marveled at how far technology has come. Every time someone asked what happened Jesse would tell an outlandish tale that changed every time he told it. The most believable was that he lost it in a car accident; that was the story Hanzo was told.

Hanzo’s phone rang, pulling his attention from Jesse. He fished the smartphone out of his pocket and checked the caller ID: _Genji Shimada._ Hanzo sighed.

“Getting’ bad news?” Jesse asked, quirking up an eyebrow.

“No,” Hanzo answered, “It is just my younger brother.” Hanzo slid his finger across the screen, silencing the ringing.

“I don’t mean to pry, but shouldn’t ya answer that?” Jesse tried to meet Hanzo’s eyes, but Hanzo avoided him.

“I should, but not right now.” Seconds later, Hanzo’s phone rang again. This time the name displayed was _Lena Oxton._ Hanzo answered this one, “Yes, Lena?”

“Boss, I need a favor.” Lena’s voice came across the line as sweet.

“What is it?” Hanzo asked.

“I’ll ask you when you get back to the station!” Lena chimed before hanging up.

Hanzo set down his phone with a sigh, “I am being summoned.”

Jesse let out a whistle, “Good luck with that.”

iv.

“You are meaning to tell me that there are no agents that have space for her to stay?” Hanzo drilled Lena, who was not backing down. Lena never backed down when she was set on something.

“Come on, Boss. Sam already knows you, and we all know you’ve got the space.” Lena rested her hands on her hips, steadfast and sure.

Hanzo rubbed his temple and turned to look away from Lena; attempting to collect himself. “Lena, surely you could—,” Hanzo stopped when his gaze fell out his office window to the neighboring office.

Sam sat on a wooden chair, while Dr. Angela Zeigler—the resident medic—checked her over. At her feet sat a small duffle bag, probably filled with borrowed clothes (it was not like they could just go to her Deadlock home and collect her things). Sam looked lost as she made small talk with Angela during the look over. Hanzo could only imagine how she felt; Sam had no home, no family to turn to, and an unsure future. Hanzo knew he could not try to pass Sam off on someone else; he would just be another in a long line of people.

“Sam can stay with me.” Hanzo said, turning back to Lena.

“Thank you, Boss!” Lena said with joy in every inch of her. She quickly scurried around the desk, throwing her arms around Hanzo, “This means the world to me and to her too, probably!”

“Yes, yes, yes. Now get off of me.” Hanzo tried to pry Lena’s arms from his torso.

.

“As of now, I can definitively tell you that she is suffering from undernutrition.” Angela handed over papers of medical information over to Hanzo, “I am going to do some blood work for her, so we can see all of what is wrong with her.”

“As you say, Doctor.” Hanzo answered, looking over a list of vitamins Sam was supposed to take. It was a little overwhelming, suddenly becoming responsible for the well-being of a teenager. But, he watched Genji, and took care of him; a teenager shouldn’t be too hard.

“Mr. Shimada.” Angela spoke softly. Hanzo looked up at her and she continued, “Don’t worry, get the girl some pizza and a warm place to sleep for tonight. Worry about the rest in the morning.”

Hanzo gave a small smile, “As you say, Doctor.” Bless Angela; she always knew what to do.

After Angela left, Hanzo made his way to Lena’s office, where Sam slept on the couch. He crouched down next to her and gently rubbed her shoulder.

Sam blinked her eyes, waiting for the world to come into focus, “Detective Hanzo?”

“Would you like to get pizza?” Hanzo asked.

Sam smiled, “That would be nice, Detective Hanzo.”

“You can just call me Hanzo, alright?” Hanzo felt a smile tug at his lips.

“Okay, Hanzo.”

.

Hanzo sat on the couch in his apartment, watching Sam tear into her fifth slice. Hanzo was impressed how much this girl could eat. On the way home, Sam had eaten two granola bars, she just downed a liter of Coke and now half of a pizza. Hanzo had to remind himself that this was probably the first decent meal she did not have to fight for.

Hanzo rolled up the sleeves of his shirt before eating his own slice of pizza off of a paper plate. Pepperoni was not his favorite but he would tolerate it for Sam. Halfway through the slice he noticed Sam staring at him.

“Need anything, Sam?” Hanzo asked.

“Uh—No, I don’t,” Sam snapped out of her stare, “I was just looking at your tattoo.” Sam pointed at his arm where a dragon danced on stormy skies and curled its way down his forearm. “I didn’t think you were one for tattoos.”

“I like them. Though mine is more family motivated.” Hanzo nodded.

“Family motivated?” Sam questioned, mid-bite.

Hanzo briefly remembered his family in Japan, the things they did and what happened to his brother. It was something to be ashamed about, but sitting with a girl freshly yanked from a gang herself, Hanzo believed he could share with her.

“You might not believe it,” Hanzo began, “But my family is part of the Yakuza.”

“No way!” Sam’s eyes were wide with surprise and she almost dropped her pizza slice, “You? You’re a cop!”

“I was not always a police officer.” Hanzo began, “When I was born in Japan, my family was already deep inside of the Yakuza. As the eldest brother, I was supposed to take over when my father died.”

“But, you didn’t, obviously.” Sam said, watching Hanzo’s face.

“No,” Hanzo said, short, to the point.

Sam stayed silent for a moment before prying, “What happened?”

“I was asked to kill my brother.”

 

v.

The last person Hanzo thought he would talk to about his brother was a seventeen-year-old girl. But he did, Hanzo sat in his quiet living room with Sam and told her about his brother, Genji.

It was one of Hanzo’s first weeks in Sante Fe and the desert heat was starting to get to him. The summer sun beating down on the city really, truly, drove Hanzo mad, and reminded him of a novel about a man killing an Arab because of the sun. But Hanzo did not kill anyone; Hanzo just drank himself into a stupor.

Hanzo ghosted through his days, working odd jobs for a little cash before he found himself in bars. All of the bars were the same, dark, a little on the dirty side, and no one talked to each other, unless there was a problem. That night there was a problem. Hanzo could not remember who started the fight but Hanzo decided he was going to end the fight.

Hanzo did not end the fight, and he lost severely, or at least he thought he did by how he woke up outside. Hanzo blinked and realized that he was not outside but rather in a car with the windows rolled down. Hanzo looked out the window at the neon signs blurring by; he tried to remember what happened.

 _“You have really got yourself into a pickle this time, Brother.”_ The voice beside him said with a laugh. A laugh that was so familiar it chilled Hanzo to the bone.

Hanzo could not believe his eyes, there was his brother back from the grave, older than Hanzo remembered but the same devilish sparkle in his eye. Though, the lower half of his was covered with a surgical mask, scars stretched down Genji’s face, disappearing below the mask. Hanzo did not need to ask what happened.

Against all odds, Genji forgave Hanzo (Hanzo would not say it out loud but he would never forgive himself). Hanzo slowly recovered and got his life on track, deciding to go the police academy and become a detective; putting a stop to the activities that almost took his brother from him.

“And that is how I came to be here,” Hanzo finished his story, “I learned that Angela was doing a study in Japan and was actually the one to help Genji. When she found out who I was, she did not speak to me for weeks.”

Sam watched Hanzo for a moment, finishing her pizza. Sam set the paper plate down on the coffee table and turned to Hanzo; she scoot a bit closer and wrapped her arms around him in a gentle, relaxed hug. Hanzo returned the hug slowly, a little confused why she was hugging him; but he was satisfied seeing that she was a little more comfortable with him.

Sam let go of him and asked, “So, everything is good between you guys, why do you still ignore his calls?”

“He is still annoying.” Hanzo let a mischievous smirk pull at his lips.

Sam blinked before dissolving into a fit of laughter. Hanzo smiled as she laughed; he wondered when the last time she laughed that hard.

.

Hanzo drank his coffee while reading a case report from the newest arson. It was a Saturday morning, but that did not slow Hanzo down. Next to him on the couch, Sam sat half-wake, drinking coffee, watching a 1990s western that was on TV.  

Hanzo was getting frustrated, even with Sam’s testimony, this case did not yield any new clues to the identity of The Mercenary. It only gave them confiscated Deadlock goods, which helped slow down Deadlock, but still the means of bringing it to their attention were illegal.  Hanzo sighed, and dropped the case report on the coffee table. He would look at it later.

His attention was now on the movie that played. It was about a gang in an Arizona town, and some famous brothers trying to put a stop to them. On the screen, the main character threatened a gang member at a train station. He yelled about killing the gang members and how he’d bring hell with him.

“He quoted that.” Sam suddenly spoke up.

“What?” Hanzo asked, confused.

“The Mercenary,” Sam clarified, “When he threatened Deadlock, he quoted Wyatt Earp. He said he was bringing hell with him.”

“What kind of man quotes old westerns in threats?” Hanzo asked, not expecting an answer.

Sam shrugged, “He seemed a little dorky.”

Hanzo could not help but chuckle.

Sam shifted down in the couch, getting more comfortable, pushing the shaggy, bobbed hair out of her face. Hanzo looked at her borrowed pajamas—a Cambridge Track and Field from Lena and baggy shorts. Sam was going to need some clothes, actual clothes she could call her own; and a haircut.

 

vi.

Jack Morrison, chief of police, was not an easy man to please. Jack Morrison held himself to high standards, and expected the same, if not more, of his officers. Which is why Hanzo was getting the brunt of his anger.

“Detective Hanzo, you have been chasing this guy for months and you haven’t gotten a thing?” Jack asked with a calm voice, but it was a loaded question.

“No. I have new testimony an—,” Hanzo did not finish that sentence.

“Testimony from a teenage gang member.” Jack corrected.

Hanzo scowled, “Sam is out of Deadlock and I believe she is telling the truth.”

Jack frowned, staring down Hanzo, who met his eye. When Hanzo did not back down, he gave, for the time being.“You have one more month, Detective Hanzo,” Jack warned, “If you don’t have anything in a month, you are off this case. Do you understand?”

“I understand, sir.” Hanzo said, making sure the edge in his voice had bite.

Jack left the room, leaving the door open behind him. Hanzo sighed and looked down at all of the paperwork on his desk. Next to him, his phone buzzed. The screen lit up displaying the caller: _Genji Shimada._ Hanzo sighed; his brother was not the first person he wanted to deal with, so he silenced the phone.

“Ya know, if you keep doing that he just might decide to show up and surprise you.” Lena was leaning in his doorway. Hanzo had not heard her come in.

“I hope not,” Hanzo said, “I have got enough on my plate; I do not need my brother there as well.”

“Ya never know, having a kid and some family around just might be the thing you need. Take your mind off of things, give you a new look on the case.” Lena suggested.

“Maybe.” Hanzo pushed up from his seat, “I need to check on Sam.”

“Alright,” Lena smiled, “Tell her that I say ‘hi’!”

“I will, Lena.”

.

Sam thought it was hilarious, that of all places they could eat, Hanzo chose to go to a bar. The food was good, though, and the atmosphere was nice. Something about the neon signs and old country music made her feel like she was in an old film. Sam paid no mind to the people around her, just eating her burger and looking around. She didn’t even look up when the bartender walked up and started talking to Hanzo.

“Who is this little scrap of life?” A man’s draw that was unmistakable.

Sam snapped her head up, recognizing the voice instantly. Eyes wide, she looked at him and confirmed that he had a metal arm. Sam looked at him dumbfounded has Hanzo explained the situation to the bartender.

“Nice to meet ya, Sam. The name is Jesse McCree.” Jesse held out a hand to Sam.

Sam shook his hand, trying to stare him down. Jesse grinned, he gave her a quick wink as he let go of her hand. He recognized her, and Sam could not help but smile; she was in on a secret. “Nice to meet you too, Jesse.”

Over the course of lunch, Sam decided that Jesse was a really cool guy, especially since he flirted endlessly with Hanzo, which was entertaining.

“Hanzo, when are you going to let me take you on a date?” Jesse leaned on the bar, chin held in his hand, fluttering his eyelashes. Sam snorted.

“Sam, please do not encourage him,” Hanzo said before turning to Jesse, “And I will let you take me on a date when you stop dressing like a cowboy.”

“Ouch, babe. How could you ask me to do such a thing?” Jesse faked a look of heartbreak, causing Sam to laugh more.

“I’m not your ‘babe’.” Hanzo corrected, taking a sip of his drink.

“Whatever you say, babe.” Jesse smirked.

 

vii.

Sam followed Hanzo to work that day, to help with an updated police sketch. Sam sat with Lena in her office, though it seemed like they were giggling more than drawing. But, with Lena watching Sam, Hanzo was able to focus all of his attention on the case.

Satya Vaswani, the criminal profiler, came to the conclusion that the arsonist was not burning the warehouses for the personal gain, but rather because they had something against Deadlock and wanted the police’s attention on the warehouses.

“The fires did not destroy anything of Deadlock’s misdoings, but they always burned their evidence. Except, for this last time, obviously they were distracted by Samantha.” Satya said setting the report on Hanzo’s desk.

“Thank you, Ms. Vaswani.” Hanzo nodded looking over the report, “I appreciate your input.”

“You are welcome. Have a good day, Mr. Shimada” Satya turned and left Hanzo’s office without another word.

Hanzo opened up the report and looked over Satya’s meticulous notes. Satya always did her work well, always above and beyond; something Hanzo was impressed by.

Hanzo’s phone screen lit up with a text message; an unknown number. Hanzo raised his eyebrow and opened the text message:

_From: 505-555-2263_

_Howdy :)  
Received 10:34 A.M. _

Hanzo did not need to ask who it was texting him.

_How did you get this number?  
Sent 10:35 A.M._

While Hanzo waited for Jesse to text him back he saved the number under the contact name ‘Cowboy’.

_From: Cowboy_

_Sam gave it to me.  
Received 10:37 A.M._

Hanzo set down his phone and mumbled to himself before pushing himself up and walking to Lena’s office.

“Hey, Hanzo.” Sam smiled when Hanzo walked in holding his phone.

“Sam, why did you give Mr. McCree my phone number?” Hanzo asked.

“McCree from the bar?” Lena interrupted, desperately trying to keep in her laughter.

“Yes, McCree from the bar,” Sam confirmed; Lena burst into full blown laughter. Sam looked to Hanzo, laughing a bit herself, “I gave it to him because he is hopelessly in love and you are oblivious.”

“I am not oblivious,” Hanzo defended himself, “And Jesse is not in love with me, he is just a buffoon who flirts with everyone in his age range.”

“Uh huh, you keep telling yourself that,” Sam teased.

Hanzo rolled his eyes, “Is the new sketch done?”

“Yep, just finished it!” Lena said holding the notebook out to him.

Hanzo looked at the sketch and was immediately impressed by how much detail Sam remembered. The hat band of braided horsehair, with a pin of an eagle in it; a worn duster and a Colt Single Action revolver. Hanzo was surprised, the Colt was an old brand of revolver; but then again of course The Mercenary would keep to his theme.

“Lena,” Hanzo said handing the sketch back to Lena, “Do a search of all the Colt revolvers registered in this area and do background checks on everyone that comes up.”

“Yes, sir!” Lena stood up and took off.

.

Sam sat on the couch, watching the evening news when Hanzo sat next to her with a stack of books.

“What’s with all of those?” Sam asked taking a book from the stack. World History; she flipped open the book and thumbed through the pages.

“You did not finish school, did you?” Hanzo answered Sam’s question with another.

“No, I had to stop my sophomore year when my aunt split.” Sam said. She looked at Hanzo, “You don’t expect me to go to school do you?”

“No,” Hanzo said, “But you are going to finish you education. I know it is going to be tough for you, but I expect you to challenge yourself.” Hanzo placed the books next to Sam and watched her as she looked at the books.

Sam looked at the books, “Do I get to pick my subjects?” She asked.

“If you wish, is there something you want to learn?” Hanzo questioned.

“Can you teach me Japanese?” Sam looked up from the books at Hanzo.

Hanzo thought it over for a second, he was pretty busy and he did not know how long Sam would stay with him. But, Hanzo felt like he needed to, he wanted to.

“Sure, I will teach you some Japanese.” Hanzo said.

Sam smiled, moving the books to hug Hanzo tight. He did not return the hug right away, but eventually did wrap his arms around her. Hanzo couldn’t help but smile a little.

Sam pulled away from the hug, just a bit, grinning ear to ear and looking a little watery-eyed, “Thanks for caring about me, Hanzo.”

“You’re welcome, Sam.” Hanzo pulled her close into a hug again. Sam squeezed him tight, and rested her head against his shoulder.

Hanzo found himself feeling protective of her, he would do anything to keep her safe.

.

Hanzo’s phone buzzed late after he went to bed. He fumbled for his phone to see who on earth was talking to him at this hour.

_From: Cowboy_

_howdy darling  
Received 11:29 P.M._

_Go to bed, Fool.  
Sent 11:29 P.M._

_  
From: Cowboy_

_the night is still young tho_  
Received 11:31 P.M.  


_still alot that can be done ;)  
Received 11:31 P.M._

_‘Alot’ is not a word. ‘A lot’ is what you mean.  
Sent 11:32 P.M._

_From: Cowboy_

_fine. there is a lot that can be done ;)  
Received 11:35 P.M._

_Correct grammar is not going_  
to change my mind.  
Sent 11:36 P.M.

Hanzo set down his phone with a small smile; Jesse McCree was a ridiculous man. Hanzo decided that he might give the man a chance.

 

viii.

Jesse smiled at his phone’s screen before slipping it into the breast pocket of his duster. He picked up the gas canister with a smile and began to hum as he loosened the can’s lid. Jesse poured gas around the building, murmuring the lyrics of the song stuck in his head. _Oh, play me some mountain music._

Jesse was not normally this happy while doing his work, but teasing Hanzo put in him in a good mood. Jesse could imagine Hanzo’s exasperated expression, rolling those beautiful brown eyes at Jesse’s texts. Maybe Hanzo would even smile. God, Jesse McCree would do anything to make Hanzo smile.

Jesse threw the empty gas can through the open door into the building; he pulled down his bandana and started to light his cigar. Jesse flung the match into the gas and stepped back as it caught, puffing away at his cigar. Jesse continued to hum as he turned on his heel to leave, satisfied with the job.

“Who the fuck are you?” A voice pierced the air and Jesse was grabbed by the back of his collar before he could react--Jesse’s good mood distracted him.  The man pulled Jesse back and got a good look at his face before smirking, “Jesse McCree, shoulda known it was you--,”

The poor bastard could not even finish his sentence by the time Jesse drew his Colt revolver. Jesse felt sorry for him for a moment as he lay there, bleeding on the walk; he did not even get a chance to fight back. Jesse crouched down and carefully closed the man’s eyes.

“Sorry,” Jesse said to the man before standing up again and looking at the scene. “Sorry, Hanzo. I made quite the mess for you.” Jesse said to no one before walking off.

.

Lena beat Hanzo to the scene, as always, and was already taking photos of the scene. A propane supplier burnt to the ground, and a gang member dead on the front boardwalk. Surprisingly, the propane tanks did not explode; once again, The Mercenary knew what he was doing.

Lena turned when Hanzo approached her, “Hey, Boss.”

“Hello, Lena.” Hanzo greeted, “What is the situation?”

“Obviously, it is The Mercenary again. Same kind of fire as before. He took someone down this time,” Lena gestured to the body Angela was looking over.

“Thank you, Lena.” Hanzo thanked before turning and walking over to Angela.

“Good morning, Hanzo.” Angela greeted not looking up from the body.

“Good morning,” Hanzo crouched next to Angela, “Got any information yet?”

Angela nodded, “The cause of death is kind of obvious.” Angela pointed to where a bullet entered the man’s head. “But, it looks like there was a struggle before The Mercenary killed him. The Deadlock member must have surprised him while he was lighting the fire.”

Hanzo nodded, “There might be some physical evidence on the body still, hopefully.”

“Yes, that would be very helpful,” Angela said. A quick smirk danced on her lips, “If forensics ever get things together and finish processing all of the other evidence.”

“You know, Mei is a one woman department at the moment; she doesn’t need your sass.” A voice suddenly pulled Angela and Hanzo’s attention away from the body, it was Jack Morrison.

“Sorry, sir.” Angela looked down.

Hanzo stood and approached Jack, “You never come to a crime scene.”

“Given the time constraints, I felt my presence might be necessary.” Jack said. Hanzo frowned.

“I believe the time constraints to be a little unfair,” Hanzo spoke with even tone, “Especially with Mei being overworked.”

“Mei is going to get a new lab assistant at the end of the week.” Jack’s voice was firm and final.

Hanzo wanted to scream but instead he breathed out his nose, “Please excuse me, I must get someone to watch Sam.”Hanzo watched Jack frown.

“Be careful of letting that girl interfere with your work.” Jack warned.

Hanzo said nothing.

.

“Ya know, Hanzo. When you called asking for a favor, this is not what I had in mind.” Jesse joked as Hanzo dropped Sam off at the currently empty bar.

“I know what you had in mind.” Hanzo frowning at Jesse’s smirk.

Sam laughed at them as she claimed a spot at the bar and pulled out a novel Hanzo gave her. Hanzo smiled slightly, happy to see Sam is enjoying the book.

Jesse leaned close to Hanzo’s side, dropping his voice, “You look awful handsome when you smile like that.”

Hanzo blushed a dark shade of red, “Shut up, you fool. Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Are you sure?” Jesse hooked a finger in the belt loop of Hanzo’s pants and pulled him close; breathing against Hanzo’s neck, “It sure looks like it’s getting me somewhere.”

Hanzo removed Jesse’s hands from him, placing him that the other man’s sides, “Do not let Sam drink too much soda, and make sure she eats something healthy.” Hanzo turned and strode to the door, he stopped before he exited and turned, “I owe you one, Jesse.”

Jesse grinned, watching Hanzo exit and close the door behind him. Momentarily, he was lost in his own thoughts about Hanzo.

“You know, you could be less obvious.” Sam said from the counter.

Jesse turned and walked to Sam’s spot at the bar, “I know, but I’m not good at not being obvious.”

“Are you sure?” Sam asked setting down her book, “Because it seems to me that you are getting away with a lot of stuff by not being obvious.” Sam gave Jesse a wink causing the man to smile.

“Well, you have a point there,” Jesse walked around behind the bar and began preparing things for that night of business.

Sam picked her book up and read a while longer before giving up again and watched Jesse work. “Jesse, why do you do it?” Sam asked.

“Do what?” Jesse did not look up from his work, “Being a bartender or being a vigilante?”

“Being a vigilante.” Sam leaned forward on the counter, resting her chin on her hands, “I looked at the reports Hanzo left out. They know your M.O. kinda, but they don’t know your motive.”

“Well,” Jesse looked up from his task and took a moment to rub his chin like he was deep in thought. “I guess you can say I have a personal motivation.”

“And what is that, if I may pry?” Sam smiled, “I promise I won’t tell.”

“I know you won’t, kid,” Jesse smiled. He took a moment to get a seat next to Sam, “It’s kinda long story but I can give you a simple version. I use to be in Deadlock, did some really messed up things. That gang almost ruined my life, but I got lucky and in a raid when I was seventeen an ATF agent picked me up and took me under his wing.

“His name was Gabriel Reyes and he was the best thing to happen to me, so far. He got me back into the real world and become a decent person again. Unfortunately, Deadlock was not happy with Reyes taking their best shot and they killed him; tried to get me back in but I refused.”

“And they didn’t threaten you?” Sam asked.

“Nope, they knew I was stubborn as a mule.” Jesse answered, “Though, for a while they gave me trouble, bricks through the windows of the bar; but they moved on.”

Sam quietly studied Jesse’s face for a moment before she said anything again. “You warned me because you didn’t want me to be like you, right? You wanted to give me a chance?”

“You are a damn smart kid,” Jesse grinned and ruffled up Sam’s hair, “But yeah, I didn’t know you’d end up with Hanzo. I’m glad you did; he’s a great guy.”

“You should really just ask him on a date,” Sam said smoothing out her hair, “Take him to dinner in a nice place, he’d love that.”

 

ix.

Angela found trace fibers under the gang member’s nails, probably from The Mercenary’s coat; which she promptly sent to Mei. The results probably wouldn’t come back soon, though. Mei’s lab was in disarray.

“I am so mad at Jamison.” Mei huffed, working away on some equipment Hanzo did not know the name of. “I can’t believe him. Who in their right mind thinks it’s okay to celebrate the Fourth of July indoors! He’s not even American! He’s Australian!”

Hanzo stood in Mei’s lab and let her rant about her previous Lab Assistant, whom, though, she was currently complaining about, she has been dating off and on for weeks. Hanzo hoped that if he let Mei complain to him, she’d process his evidence faster; but she could only go so fast when her equipment was not working.

“I can’t believe I let him take me out on a date,” Mei said mostly to herself. As she spoke, the machine made a beep that did not sound happy and Mei sighed, “Bastion, please work…”

“You named your lab equipment?” Hanzo asked.

“Yep!” Mei chirped, a sudden shift in mood. She pointed to a small mass spec in the corner, “That is Snowball, this is Bastion, and my computer is Sombra!”

“Good names,” Hanzo complimented giving Mei one of his more genuine smiles. Even though she was a little too perky for him most days, he still appreciated her enthusiasm.

“Thanks!” Mei smiled, turning back to her work, “Also don’t worry about your evidence, as soon as I get this done I’ll start on that. Then tomorrow Lucio gets here and the processing should go much faster!”

“Thank you, Mei. I appreciate it.” Hanzo gave her a polite wave and exited, happy with the turn out.

Halfway down the hall, Hanzo’s phone chimed off, alerting him to a text message.

_From: Genji Shimada_

_Hey bro!  
Received 1:12 P.M. _

Hanzo put the phone back in his pocket.

.

Music was blasting in the bar when Hanzo arrived, though the place was empty, save for Sam and Jesse. Hanzo found the two of them on the makeshift dance floor; Jesse speaking over county music from the early 2000s, teaching Sam how to dance.

Hanzo silently watched as Jesse counted under his breath and instructed Sam what to do. Sam was grinning ear to ear, occasionally looking down at her feet to make sure she didn’t step on Jesse’s. Hanzo felt himself smile, something stirring in his chest that he had not felt in years.

“You are doing so well, Sam!” Jesse punctuated his sentence by spinning Sam; Sam promptly fell into a fit of giggles. Hanzo walked over to the dance floor and Jesse looked over, “Howdy, Hanzo!” Jesse let go of Sam’s hands and grabbed Hanzo’s, “Care for a dance?”

“Oh, no,” Hanzo tried to dissuade him; pulling his hands away from Jesse.

“You have to!” Sam encouraged.

Jesse grabbed Hanzo’s hands again and pulled him close, “Let me dance with ya, darling.”

Hanzo gave up and let Jesse put his hands on his waist. Hesitating, Hanzo rested his hands on Jesse’s shoulders. Out of the corner of his eye, Hanzo saw Sam grinning. Sam and Jesse were going to be death of him.

But, right now what was killing Hanzo was how Jesse was looking at him and smiling. Jesse smiled like Hanzo hung the moon, even though Hanzo was stepping on his toes. Hanzo had dance lessons when he was young, but he hadn’t danced in years. Though, Jesse didn’t seem to mind. Jesse just smiled, held Hanzo closer, and hummed along with the tune.

“You and me going fishin’ in the dark,” Jesse began to sing along with the song. Hanzo rolled his eyes, but Jesse continued with a chuckle, “Down by the river in the full moon light.  
We'll be fallin' in love in the middle of the night.” Jesse exaggerated his singing and tried to rub his cheek against Hanzo’s.

Hanzo blushed a dark red, but did not stop Jesse, “You are a fool.”

Jesse kissed Hanzo’s cheek in response and spun the man before dipping him. Hanzo gasped and grasped Jesse’s shoulders a little tighter. Jesse’s smile turned to a small smirk, “Can’t get enough of me can ya, babe.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Hanzo did not notice when Jesse righted him or when Jesse leaned in close. Hanzo did not notice Jesse touching their foreheads together or how nice it felt having Jesse so close. Hanzo studied Jesse’s lips; his lips looked chapped but Hanzo wanted to find out for himself. Hanzo felt warm breath against his lips.

_Click._

Hanzo blinked, suddenly the real world was coming back; the dark bar, bad country music and Sam sitting on a bar stool with Hanzo’s phone taking a photo of them.

Sam taking a photo of him.

“Samantha!” Hanzo jumped out of his skin and away from Jesse; who was laughing, “Please, delete that!”

“Not until you send it to me!” Jesse said grinning.

“I already sent it to you!”

 

x.

“Hanzo, did we leave the kitchen light on?” Sam asked while carrying her books up the front porch.

“No.” Sam watched as Hanzo jumped into action, pulling his pistol out of the shoulder holster. “Get behind me, Sam. Stay quiet.” Hanzo slowly opened the front door, scanning the room for any signs of life.

The living room was empty, but there were sounds in the kitchen. Hanzo guided Sam into the living room. Once inside, Sam quietly set the books down on the floor, getting ready for a quit getaway if needed. The sounds from the kitchen were getting louder; banging and slamming of cabinets like someone was looking for something. Quickly, Hanzo turned the corner into the kitchen ready for whoever might be in there. Sam was rather confused why there was a green-haired man trying to cook dinner in their kitchen.

“Genji!” Hanzo lowered the pistol, “What are you doing here _?_ ”

Genji grinned, his usual surgical mask gone, “This is what happens when you don’t answer your phone, Brother.” Genji looked to Sam, “Who is this charming young lady?”

“I’m Sam. Hanzo is watching me.” Sam answered.

“Hm,” Genji nodded, “Why is Hanzo watching you?”

“I use to be a gang member, then I witnessed an arson.” Sam explained.

“Oh, cool,” Genji turned back to going through the cabinets.

Hanzo groaned, “What are you doing, Genji?”

“I wanted to come see my favorite brother,” Genji stopped his rifling again, “And you weren’t home so I let myself in and decided to make my brother dinner.”

Hanzo seemed to wince at the phrase ‘favorite brother’, and looked away from Genji.

“Come on, Hanzo,” Genji noticed Hanzo’s discomfort, “I thought you were cool now.”

“We are cool.” Hanzo said a bit too quickly.

Genji was not convinced but let the topic drop, “Alright, now what do you guys want? Keep in mind I’m only good at making ramen.”

Sam smiled at Genji, “Ramen sounds wonderful.”

.

Genji made ramen the way his mother did. Just the taste of the broth brought back childhood memories; most of which Hanzo did not want to remember. Ones of happy chatter at the table, playing in the courtyard with Genji, and bedtime stories about great dragons that protected their family.

But, despite dredged up histories, the night was very pleasant. Genji took a liking to Sam immediately and they joked around most of the night. Genji even taught Sam some swear words in Japanese, to which Hanzo rolled his eyes—typical Genji. At the moment Genji was inquiring about Sam’s tattoo.

“I left Deadlock before they finished it,” Sam said while extending out her arm, showing off the word ‘Rebel’ on her inner forearm. “I don’t know what to do about it now, though. It’s not like I’m going back and I don’t like having the reminder there, ya know.”

“Yeah,” Genji nodded. (Genji would know about reminders; Hanzo regretted the ones he gave his brother.) “You could always get it covered up.” Genji suggested.

“I could but I’m afraid the lettering is too dark to do anything with it,” Sam brushed her fingers over the letters.

“What about an addition?” Hanzo spoke up.

“An addition?” Genji mused.

“Yes, Sam is still a bit of a rebel, just not with Deadlock anymore.” Hanzo said as he took a sip of sake Genji brought with him.

Sam smiled, “That’s a good idea. I’m a rebel without a cause!”

“Yes, you are,” Hanzo smiled some before glancing at the clock, it was approaching midnight, “You should probably be getting to bed.”

“But, Hanzo.” Sam exaggerated the last syllable, “We have company.”

“Company that will be here in the morning.” Hanzo countered Sam’s argument, “And Genji will probably let you hang out with him all day tomorrow too.”

“Yeah, I can take you to the mall, or whatever teenage ex-gang members like to do!” Genji grinned at Sam, and ruffled up her dark hair.

“Alright, fine,” Sam gave a half-hearted pout before getting off the couch, “Good night, Hanzo. Good night, Genji.”

“Good night.” The brothers said as Sam padded off to her room.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Genji slipped into their native tongue to speak to Hanzo, “ _She makes you happy. I can tell._ ”

“Sam?” Hanzo asked like he did not know who Genji was talking about.

“ _Yes,_ Sam.” Genji confirmed, “ _What is going to happen to her after the investigation?_ ”

“ _I am unsure_ ,” Hanzo shrugged, “ _She would probably get put into child services, but with how old she is it is highly unlikely she would get adopted._ ”

“ _You can’t let that happen to her,_ ” Genji said, frowning, “ _She could get put in a bad home and get involved with gangs again or worse._ ”

“ _I know._ ” Hanzo took another drink.

Genji did not say anything for a minute, he stared down at his sake, deep in thought. “ _You could adopt her, you know._ ” Genji suggested, “Sam _is fond of you, and it’s obvious you like having her around. I could help you too, if you needed._ ”

“ _I know you would help me, brother,_ ” Hanzo said, a tiny, almost unnoticeable smile on his lips.

“ _You would make her so happy; it would make you happy too._ ” Genji said, his words gentle and true.

Hanzo could not think of a single rebuttal to the idea.

 

xi.

Hanzo stared up at the ceiling of his room, willing himself to go to sleep. But he’s had too much to drink and alcohol induced guilt and depression was starting to eat at him. Hanzo enjoyed seeing his brother and testing the waters of their rebuilt relationship. Things came easy, like how they were before. A feeling gnawed at Hanzo, if he did not take matters into his own hands; they could have been like this long ago.

Hanzo was momentarily pulled out of his stupor by his buzzing phone.

_From: Cowboy_

_Howdy handsome ;0  
Received 12:46 A.M._

A sudden tug at Hanzo’s heart. Guilt rushing in faster than before. Hanzo did not deserve someone as kind as Jesse McCree; Hanzo did not deserve anyone. Hanzo did not deserve anyone who makes him happy. Hanzo tried to murder his brother.

What about Sam?

No. Hanzo’s train of thought changed directions. Sam was different, Sam needed him; without him Sam would probably end up back with Deadlock or dead. Yes, Sam was different, she needed Hanzo to have a chance.

_Yes, cowboy?  
Sent 1:01 A.M._

_From: Cowboy_

_what’s up?  
Received 1:02 A.M._

_i havent heard from ya all day  
Received 1:02 A.M._

_I had a last minute visit from my Brother.  
Sent 1:03 A.M._

_From: Cowboy_

_I didnt know you had a brother  
Received 1:04 A.M._

_I do not talk about him to people I hardly know.  
Sent 1:04 A.M._

_From: Cowboy_

_I wouldn’t say hardly know darling  
Received 1:05 A.M._

_after all we were dancing cheek to cheek yesterday ;)  
Received 1:05 A.M._

_youd get to know me if ya let me take you out_  
on a date .3.  
Received 1:06 A.M.

_What does “.3.” mean?  
Sent 1:06 A.M._

_From: Cowboy_

_It’s a kissy face  
Received 1:07 A.M._

_You are ridiculous.  
Sent 1:07 A.M._

_From: Cowboy_

_So is that a yes?  
Received 1:07 A.M._

Hanzo thought for a moment. He could not lead Jesse on if he had no intention of letting himself be with someone, but he could not deny Jesse either. Jesse was too sweet and kind to hurt like that. Though, it might hurt more; Jesse could fall in love with Hanzo. A love Hanzo did not deserve and could not return. Hanzo could destroy Jesse McCree.

_I will think about it.  
Sent 1:10 A.M._

.

“Mr. Shimada? Are you sure you can handle adopting a teenage girl?” Angela stood in Hanzo’s office. Hanzo asked for her opinion on a matter but she did not expect it to be about Sam. Angela looked at the tired man before her, he was looking at Sam’s personal file, flipping through the pages in it; along with the file were some adoption papers, all filled out except signatures.

“I do not know if I can handle it,” Hanzo said, “But she needs someone. Someone who understands what she is going through.”

Someone who is an ex-gang member and understands living with guilt.

“I cannot make a decision for you, Hanzo,” Angela began, “I cannot say that you would be the best parent either, as your discipline methods can be very extreme—”

Hanzo looked up, giving Angela a glare telling her they were not friendly enough to make light of his bad decisions.

“—But, you are probably the most qualified to help her.” Angela finished.

Hanzo remained quiet for a moment, considering Angela’s words. “Thank you, Ms. Zeigler. I appreciate your advice.”

Angela gave him a soft smile, “You are welcome, Mr. Shimada. I am happy to help.” Angela turned on her heel and made her way to the door that was suddenly opened by Genji, followed closely by Sam.

“Ah! Angela!” Genji swept the blonde doctor up into a hug, taking the time to spin around with her in his arms, “It has been too long!”

“It is good to see you too, Genji!” Angela’s voice was peppered with happy laughter.

Genji set Angela down, happily chatting with her and making plans for a coffee date. Sam made her way to Hanzo’s desk, sitting on the edge without preamble and looked at the files he had sitting out. There was a packet of papers that were definitely not case related.

“What do you got there?” Sam picked up the file with the custody papers.

Hanzo felt is heart jump for a second, “Um, custody papers.”

“For who?” Sam asked, flipping through the pages but not really reading.

Genji briefly paused; looking at Hanzo. Hanzo smiled slightly, “For you, Sam.”

Sam looked up from the papers, a look of disbelief on her face. Both Genji and Hanzo could see the emotions play across her face. Sam seemed confused; she looked back down at the papers and confirmed that, yes, it was filled out with her information. Finally, Sam settled on feeling overwhelmed. Tears welled up in her eyes and Sam did not bother trying to keep them in; she let herself cry.

Hanzo quickly stood up, going to her side and gently pulled her into a hug, “Sam, you do not need to cry.” Hanzo smoothed over Sam’s hair and let her cry into his shirt, not caring that she squeezed him tight or got snot on his work shirt.

“Thank you, Hanzo,” Sam stuttered out, words caught on the knot in her throat and hiccupping.

“You do not need to thank me, Sam,” Hanzo said, rubbing her back.

“Yes, I do,” Sam said, “You’ve done so much for me; more than what you needed to do.”

“Who said that I did not need to help you?” Hanzo said; Sam could hear the smile in his voice. Sam was once again overwhelmed and a new wave of tears came. She hid her red face against Hanzo’s shoulder.

“Good going, Hanzo. You made her cry again.” Genji joked; Sam laughed between her tears. “I think we need to celebrate, we can get pizza!” Genji suggested.

“Pizza seems like a wonderful idea,” Hanzo looked down at Sam. “What do you think, Sam?”

Sam pulled away from the embrace, slightly; wiping her eyes with the long sleeves of a shirt borrowed from Lena. “We need to invite Lena, and Angela,” Sam began.

“Okay, we can do that—,”

Sam interrupted, “And you have to invite Jesse!”

 

xii.

Hanzo was surprised that so many people came out for pizza. Not just Lena, Angela, and Jesse, but also Mei, the new lab assistant, Lucio, and the old one, Jamison. But Hanzo was most surprised when Jack Morrison made an appearance—since the man seemed to be against Sam since day one.

Hanzo was watching Jesse coach Sam at an arcade game while Genji stood close by, flirting with Angela when Jack came up to him.

“Hanzo.”

“Jack.”

A heavy silence hung between them before Hanzo spoke, “I am surprised to see you here. You normally do not attend functions like this.” Code for: ‘I know you do not like Sam. Why are you here?’

“Well,” Jack paused to clear his throat, “Sam has become kind of a big deal around the office. I figured I needed to attend.”

Hanzo sipped at his cheap beer, “It was not necessary. This was originally for friends and family.” Jack frowned, Hanzo knew he got him.

“I wanted to apologize for--,” Jack paused, “For how I acted about Sam.”

“Why did you act like that?” Hanzo questioned; he was not going to relent now that he had the upper hand. Jack was quiet for a moment, looking at his own cheap beer. Hanzo thought that maybe he pressed to hard; maybe he should have accepted the apology and left it at that.

But Jack answered, “I had a friend who adopted a kid out of a gang. That runt was from Deadlock too.” Jack looked up to Jesse and Sam. “It didn’t end well. My friend got killed by Deadlock a few years later and left the kid alone again.”

“I do not intend to let—,” Hanzo was interrupted again that night.

“Reyes didn’t intend on getting killed either; he was the toughest bastard I knew and he still ended up dead,” Jack’s words were short. He took a breath before he continued, “Just be careful. Sam needs you and you are useless dead.”

“Thank you for the pep talk.” Hanzo said, taking a drink from his beer.

Across the dining room, Jesse looked up from the game and towards Hanzo. A smile on his lips and a sparkle in his eye, until he noticed Jack next to Hanzo. Hanzo almost did not notice how Jesse frowned, something of disappointment, at Jack before he turned back to the game with Sam.

.

As the night progressed, people left the party and went their own ways home; that is, except for Jesse McCree, who was sitting on the couch in Hanzo’s living room. Sam had long since gone to bed, leaving just the three men in the living room. Soon to be two.

“I think it’s time for me to hit the sack,” Genji stood up and stretched, even throwing in a bit of a yawn. A smirk danced across Genji’s lips, and slipped into Japanese, “ _Have fun with your boyfriend, Hanzo_.”

Hanzo’s reaction was immediate; turning bright red, almost stuttering on his words, “ _Shut up, Genji. He’s not my boyfriend._ ”

“ _Whatever you say._ ” Genji left the room leaving Hanzo fuming and Jesse slightly confused.

“What was that?” Jesse asked.

“Genji was teasing me.” Hanzo said, hoping Jesse would not have him elaborate on the topic.

A soft laugh left Jesse, “I got that. But what was he teasing you about?”

Hanzo hesitated for just a moment, “Genji said ‘Have fun with you boyfriend.’”

Hanzo wanted to say that he hated the way Jesse smirked at that; the edges of his mouth quirking up, bottle halfway up to his mouth and a mischievous twinkle in his eye. But Hanzo loved it and how it made his heart jump in his chest.

Hanzo expected Jesse to comment on what Genji had to say but he did not; Jesse only asked if Hanzo had a back porch he could have a smoke break on. With Jesse out of the room, Hanzo took a moment to collect himself; trying to sort out emotions. Hanzo looked at Jesse’s empty spot on the couch and decided to join the cowboy.

Jesse leaned against the railing on the porch, looking up at the night sky with a cigarillo perched on his lips. Jesse must have not heard Hanzo come out, because he did not acknowledge the other’s presence; Jesse just kept looking at the stars. Hanzo watched him for a moment, seeing how his shaggy hair moved in the slight breeze and how the smoke from the cigarillo curled around his face. Hanzo quietly took a spot next to Jesse, who smiled when he finally noticed that he had company. Together, they stood in comfortable silence, looking up at the stars and the moon.

“Genji told me what happened between you guys.” Jesse broke the silence with a topic Hanzo found less than desirable.

“Hm,” Hanzo did not respond, did not know how to respond to that. A slight panic hit him, though; Jesse probably changes his mind on how he felt about Hanzo. Who wouldn’t? Who would knowingly put their affections toward someone who tried to kill their brother? Hanzo braced for the worse from Jesse.

But the worse did not come.

“Genji also told me that you get self-destructive.” Jesse said.

“Where are you going with this?” Hanzo asked point-blank.

Jesse chewed on the end of the cigarillo, considering what to say, “I know what it’s like to feel guilty and not want to forgive yourself. It feels like you don’t deserve anything and ya hate yourself but that’s no way to carry on. It will eat ya up.”

Hanzo bristled, “And how do you know what it is like?”

“I used to be a part of the Deadlocks.” Jesse answered right away. Hanzo blinked in surprise and Jesse continued, “I did some unspeakable things, but I got a second chance and got out. I spent a lot of time feeling bad about myself, then I realized I was missing out when I was stuck dwelling on what I did in the past.”

Hanzo watched Jesse snuff out his cigarillo and look right at him, “Hanzo, with your police work you have helped so many people, ya it won’t change what happened, but you’re a better person now--hell you are adopting a kid just to help her out—you don’t gotta keep yourself from being happy.”

Hanzo looked away from Jesse’s brown eyes and stared at the drying grass on the other side of the railing. Jesse watched Hanzo bite his lip and worry it between his teeth before speaking, “Thank you, Jesse.”

“You’re welcome, Hanzo,” Jesse gave Hanzo a small smile and threw his arm around Hanzo’s shoulders, pulling him close. Hanzo’s face heat up at the gesture but he did not pull away. Jesse did not remove his arm from around Hanzo’s shoulder until they returned inside and decided on another round of drinks.

 

xiii.

Sitting on the couch, awash in the glow of alcohol, Hanzo felt like for the first time he was realizing how handsome Jesse McCree was. Yes, Jesse had a somewhat scruffy appearance, not unlike a stray dog, but there was beauty in there. There was something about the coffee brown of Jesse’s eyes, and how they sparkled when he was telling a story; and Hanzo could not help but find the freckles dusted on Jesse’s nose to be cute.

Jesse noticed the staring, “See something you like there?”

For the second time that evening, Hanzo’s heart fluttered because of Jesse’s smirk; and feeling emboldened by the alcohol in his blood and the slight pep talk earlier, Hanzo took a chance. “Yes, I do see something I like.”

“Oh, yeah? And what would that be?” Jesse’s smirk grew.

“You.” Hanzo answered, leaning a bit closer into Jesse’s personal space.

“Me? Little old me?” Jesse draped his arm on the back of the couch behind Hazno.

“Yes, you.” Hanzo confirmed.

Jesse moved closer and Hanzo could feel Jesse’s breath against his lips, “I’m flattered having a beautiful guy like yourself thinking I’m somethin’ special.”

Hanzo threw all caution to the wind; he pressed his lips against Jesse’s. It was a soft, chaste kiss but Hanzo’s heart still pounded in his chest. Jesse wrapped his metal arm around Hanzo and pulled him closer before breaking the kiss for just a moment, “You have no idea how long I have waited for that.”

“How long?” Hanzo asked, his lips almost brushing Jesse’s.

“Since the first time I saw you.”

.

Hanzo decided that Jesse was even more beautiful when the morning sun, muted by a curtain, fell on his face. Jesse slept peacefully next to Hanzo, hair all mussed up and a few bruises forming on his neck. As the morning sun grew brighter through the window Jesse stirred and yawned.

“Good Morning,” Hanzo spoke barely above a whisper. 

Jesse grinned and reached his hand to run his fingers through Hanzo’s hair, “Mornin’, handsome.” A smirk pulled at Jesse’s lips, “That sure was something.”

Hanzo felt himself blush slightly, “Yes, it was.”

The pair laid there for a while longer; Jesse playing with Hanzo’s hair, hands tracing the patterns in Hanzo’s tattoo, occasionally muttering sweet nothings. The rest of the world began to wake; Hanzo could hear Genji in the kitchen, cursing when he burned himself on the coffee pot.

“I should get up.” Hanzo said.

“But it’s so cozy having you here,” Jesse pouted.

“If you let me up, I’ll make breakfast.” Hanzo offered and watched Jesse contemplate the offer.

“I guess that would be alright.” Jesse said, slowly removing his arms from around Hanzo.

Hanzo got up and pulled on some clothes before padding to the kitchen. There he found Genji, making coffee after doing battle against the coffee pot. Genji looked up at Hanzo and smirked.

“Had fun last night? I’m surprised you didn’t wake up Sam.” Genji teased.

Hanzo glared, “Don’t Genji.”

“Do what?” Hanzo realized that Genji had the same smirk he had from childhood, same twinkle in his eye; though, now scares spanned across his face.

Hanzo did not get a chance to snap out a comeback as Jesse came into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. Jesse had just pulled on his jeans and thrown on his flannel shirt; he did not even bother buttoning it up. Hanzo snapped back into reality, and then refocused on his goal of making breakfast, pulling out the needed equipment.

Jesse woke up more and gave Genji a small wave, “Mornin’, partner.”

“Good morning.” Genji still was smirking. Genji poured Jesse coffee and the chatted quietly as Hanzo cooked away.

Sam drifted into the kitchen not long after and paused to look at Jesse, “You’re still here, Jesse?”

Jesse nodded as Genji tried to hide his smile and chuckles.

“Oh.” Sam said, before walking over to Hanzo and hugging him as he cooked.

Sam leaned her head against his shoulder and realized his shirt did not smell like him. It smelled like Cuban cigars and spilled beer, not the normal clean linen scent. Sam released Hanzo and turned him to see the front of the shirt; Florida Georgia Line 2022 tour.  Sam then looked at Jesse, seeing him wearing the flannel from last night, but missing his t-shirt--his Florida Georgia Line 2022 tour t-shirt. Sudden realization.

“Did you guys have sex last night?” Genji could not hold in his laughs as Sam blurted out her question.

Hanzo turned bright red and sputtered out made up excuses and Jesse just winked over his coffee mug.

 

xiv.

Genji fussed over his hair in the mirror by the entryway; smoothing it one way and then the other. Genji huffed and let out a defeated huff.

“Genji, it is just Angela. You do not need to get so worked up.” Hanzo said not looking up from the newspaper he was reading. He did not need to look up to know his brother was fussing.

“I know,” Genji sighed, giving up on his hair.

“I think you look handsome, Genji.” Sam piped up.

Genji smiled slightly, “Thanks, Sam.” Genji checked the clock and bolted into action, “I got to go, I’ll be back later.” And with that Genji was out the door.

Sam settled onto the couch next to Hanzo and leaned against him while he read. The article was about The Mercenary; it covered the details released by the police and also criticized the slow progress made by the police, calling for action. Sam could hear Hanzo muttering under his breath.

Sam wondered if Jesse would ever tell Hanzo.

.

“You did not have to change your last name, you know.” Hanzo said as he left the court house with now Samantha Shimada.

“I know, but you’re giving me a fresh start so I figured why not.” Sam shrugged, “Besides, Sam Shimada is a badass sounding name.” She grinned.

Hanzo smiled and ruffled her hair, “You are a silly child.”

Sam was about to retort when she was interrupted by a loud, rumbling truck; an old truck driven by Jesse McCree.

“Howdy, strangers,” Jesse tipped his hat to Hanzo and Sam. Sam bounced over to the truck’s door, smiling ear to ear, “How are you doing, Miss Sam?”

“Miss Sam Shimada now.” Sam corrected, a smile never left her face, “It’s official.”

“That is awesome,” Jesse grinned.

Hanzo’s phone lit up caller ID telling him it was Lena, he answered right away. It became apparent that something serious happened. Hanzo hung up and jumped into action.

“Jesse, I’ve got to go to the station right away, can you please watch Sam?” Hanzo asked.

“Sure thing Hanzo,” Jesse said unlocking the passenger door for Sam; she bounced over and crawled in.

“Thank you,” Hanzo said, but before he could run off Jesse reached through the window and pulled Hanzo to him.

Jesse placed a quick kiss on Hanzo’s lips, “Stay safe.”

“Thank you.” Hanzo replied, slightly flustered from the public display of affection but he had no time to scold Jesse, “You guys stay out of trouble.”

“Will do, darlin’.” Jesse tipped his hat again.

.

Sam decided that her favorite thing was flying down the frottage road in Jesse McCree’s red, 1973 Ford Ranger. The windows rolled down caused Sam’s hair to fly around and the wind almost drown out the tawny radio playing Willie Nelson songs (Jesse did his best to sing along on key). There was something about how the engine rumbled and how the sun shown in through the windows; it was almost magical.

Jesse parked his prized truck under the shade of a tree at the river access. Soon he and Sam sat on the tailgate sipping Coke out of glass bottles and sharing jerky, watching the water rush over the rocky riverbed. Sam looked at Jesse and studied his face for a moment; he looked tired.

“Jesse, are you ever gonna tell Hanzo?” Sam asked.

Jesse shrugged his shoulders, “I haven’t thought about it. I’m not sure how he’d react to his lover being the guy he’s been chasing for months.”

“Hm,” Sam mused, “You have a point; I don’t think Hanzo would be too happy.”

“Nah.” Jesse agreed, drinking his Coke. “I got another place this morning. Down the road by the dinner.”

Sam looked at Jesse in slight disbelief, “The headquarters in the propane shop?”

“Yep, had to make the heck of a getaway; the firefighters and cops got there right quick.” Jesse said, “But that’s a good thing because they could nab some gang members trying to get away.”

“You are crazy,” Sam said.

“So I have been told.” Jesse chuckled.

Sam laid back in the back of the truck and watched the sunshine filter through the leaves. Everything was peaceful until the rushing river was drown out by loud, angry motors. Sam bolted upright to see a group of a dozen men pulling up on motorcycles. Most of the men stayed on their bikes but a group of four got off and took a few strides to Jesse and Sam.

“Get in the truck, Sam.” Jesse stood up from the tailgate, around the side of the truck while Sam hauled herself out of the truck bed and got into the cab, peeking out the window.

“Can I help you fellas?” Sam could see Jesse reach to where his Colt revolver was tucked in his waistband. Panic started to rise in the pit of Sam’s stomach.

“We know it was you, McCree! There is no one else it could have been.” A man with skulls on his arms accused.

Jesse held up a hand in defense, “I don’t know what you are talking about, boys.”

“Bullshit!” Another shouted pulling out a sawed off shotgun from the saddle bags of his motorcycle.

Jesse reacted immediately, pulling out his revolver and leveling it at the man with the shotgun, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’m sure ya’ll remember how good of a shot I am.”

“Go to hell, McCree!”

Sam ducked down as soon as she heard shots fired.

 

xv.

Hanzo stood on the other side of a one-way mirror, watching Jack and Lena interrogate various gang members as he looked over files. Thanks to The Mercenary, they had found Deadlock’s headquarters burnt to the ground and the members in disarray. It was perfect timing, early in the morning for a quick police response. Hanzo was impressed; The Mercenary planned this out perfectly. And just when Hanzo thought things could not get better, Mei got done with his evidence.

Hanzo looked over the report carefully while listening to the various interrogations. The Mercenary was very good at cleaning up after himself, only evidence that was left were empty gas cans and that one poor soul with a bullet between his eyes.

“There were not any finger prints,” Mei explained, “I was feeling very discouraged but then I remembered that leather gloves sometimes leave prints.” Mei pointed to her enhanced photos of prints from the gloves, “I narrowed it down to a generic brand from Shipton’s Ranch Supply.”

“That’s incredible, Mei.” Hanzo complimented.

“There was something weird, however,” Mei said. Hanzo looked up from the photos at her, “There were only leather prints of the right glove. I found nothing from the left. Which is odd, even if The Mercenary was right-handed he’d still need his left to preform most of the actions it takes to burn down a warehouse.”

Hanzo furrowed his brow and looked back at the photos, “That is strange…, thank you again, Mei.”

Hanzo continued to stare at the photos in the file; ones of the leather prints and others of tire tracks from the scene, the tracks were narrowed down to an older model Ford but Mei couldn’t determine the exact model. Hanzo set down the file and refocused on the interrogation.

“What about the man who burnt down the place?” Jack asked the gang member, a younger guy with a buzzed head.

“His face was obscured. I don’t know who he was.” The man spit out.

“Yeah, no duh, kid.” Jack sassed, “Did you notice anything about him that seemed strange?”

The man was quiet, “Yeah there was one thing. He moved through the place like he knew exactly where he was going, like he had been there before.”

Hanzo blinked. _Like he had been there before._

Drives an old Ford.

Disguised as a cowboy of the old west.

No prints from the left hand.

_He smokes Cuban cigars; if that helps at all._

Hanzo could not believe he did not realize it before.

Hanzo’s phone rang, and he jumped, surprised back into reality. He pulled out his phone and read the caller ID: _Cowboy._ Hanzo felt anger rise in his chest and he answered.

“What is it, Jesse McCree?” Hanzo all but spat out. He was surprised though when the voice on the other end was not Jesse McCree but Sam.

“Hanzo! You need to come to the river right now!” Sam’s voice was hard to hear over gunshots. Hanzo felt the anger turn into fear, dread and panic. “Deadlock is here and they are after—,” the line went out and Hanzo nearly dropped his phone.

The station’s PA buzzed to life overhead, “Shots reported at Highway 3 River Access, witnesses say it is Deadlock activity, and unidentified man and teenager. All available officers to the scene.”

Hanzo ran from the room, being sure to grab his gun from his office.

.

Jesse crouched by the front passenger tired, popping up to fire into the gang members, hitting his mark most of the time. Sam was in the cab, digging under the seats looking for the spare box of ammo Jesse told her to grab. Her hands were shaking from panic and she could barely grasp the box when she found it. Sam scoot to the passenger side, and popped up for a moment to hand Jesse the box of ammo. Sam could see Jesse got shot in his right shoulder, his shirt was getting stained red.

“Thank you,” Jesse took the box from Sam just as a bullet went through the windshield and glass flew through the cab.

“Ah!” Sam ducked down, covering her head. Sam looked down at the floorboards where Jesse’s phone laid, destroyed. Sam realized that if the gang members got closer, she’d need a weapon. She opened the jockey box and found a knife and slid it down her boot.

“Just hang in a little longer, Sam,” Jesse encouraged. There was the sound of sirens in the distance that grew closer. Sam prayed that they would get there before she and Jesse were toast.

.

Hanzo was relieved when he arrived and saw Sam’s head bobbing and ducking in the cab; not relieved when he saw Jesse crouched at the side of the truck bleeding through his shirt, nor when gang members continued to shoot at Jesse and the police. Police officers were ducked behind their doors, making some progress against the gang members. Hanzo made his way to where Jack and Lena were crouched.

“We are pushing them back,” Lena said, hopeful, “Soon they will run out of bullets and will have to give up.”

Lena was wrong. In a split second decision, the gang member with skulls decorating his arms rushed to Jesse’s truck. He wrenched open the driver side door, and reached inside.

“Jesse!” Sam screamed as he grabbed her and pulled her out of the truck. Sam kicked and screamed with all of her might, but the man just adjusted his grip on her, wrapping his arm around Sam, leaving her arms pinned at her sides and lifted her feet of the ground.

Jesse stood up and aimed but did not get a chance to stop the man before the man pressed his gun against Sam’s head. “Make a move and she gets it!”

Hanzo felt his heart pound in his chest. Jack grabbed Hanzo’s shoulder to keep him from bolting to Sam. Hanzo watched Jesse place the revolver on the hood of the truck and wincing as held up his hands. Sam gave Jesse a panicked look but Jesse remained calm; he nodded to Sam’s boot. Sam furrowed her eyebrows and looked down. The handle of the knife she took was peeking out of the top of her boot.

Sam looked back up at Jesse and gave him a small nod. It was absolutely crazy, but it was something. Sam took a deep breath and looked to the line of police cars, searching for where Hanzo was. He had to be there. Sam scanned the row of faces and found him. Sam mouthed the words _Jesse has a plan_ , hoping Hanzo could read lips well.

Hanzo raised his eyebrows when he figured it out and whispered, “Jesse has a plan.”

“What?” Jack asked.

“Jesse has a plan.” Hanzo repeated and looked to Jesse who had his gaze shifted in Hanzo’s direction.

Jesse slowly looked between Hanzo and the man holding Sam and back to Hanzo. _You get him._ Hanzo nodded in understanding. The three of them were on the same page. Hanzo upholstered his gun. Lena grabbed the CB radio and called for a medical team.

Sam took a deep breath, calming herself and pulled up her leg so she could reach the knife handle. Jesse bolted into action, vaulting himself over the hood of his truck with his metal arm; all of the gang’s attention was on him. Ignoring the gunfire that irrupted, Sam yanked out the knife and drove it back into the man’s thigh and twisted it. He dropped her with a howl of pain; Sam stayed close to the ground. Hanzo fired at the man, who was more focused on the knife in his thigh, putting a slug in each of his knees; the man crumpled to the ground.

The gunfire ended quickly, police officers rushed forward to apprehend and arrest. Jack put the cuffs on the man with skull tattoos, who was screamed about how he should have killed Jesse McCree when he took out Reyes. Hanzo mostly ignored him and rushed over to Sam, pulling her up off the ground and hugging her tight, “Thank God, you are alright.”

Sam returned the tight hug, almost on the verge of tears, “I’m okay, Hanzo. I’m not hurt.”

 Hanzo let go of Sam and looked her up and down, he had to have visual confirmation that she was not injured. Hanzo pulled her into a tight hug again, which same returned immediately.

“Oh my god, Jesse,” Sam exclaimed, looking to where Jesse was leaning against his truck. Sam broke from Hanzo’s hug and dashed over to Jesse; Hanzo quickly followed behind her. When Hanzo got closer, he could see just how much blood was soaked into Jesse’s shirt, and two more bullet wounds in his chest and abdomen. All anger Hanzo felt towards Jesse at the moment was gone, replaced with the desire to help.

“Jesse, how many times have you been shot?” Hanzo asked, getting Jesse to sit.

“I dunno, I lost count.” Jesse answered, trying smile.

“You idiot,” Hanzo muttered, taking off his jacket to press against Jesse’s wounds. “Lena! I need a first aid kit!” Hanzo shouted

 Lena responded right away rushing over with the kit, having Sam help her get out various supplies. Hanzo was hoping to slow down the bleeding. He looked at Jesse who was surprisingly calm looking. “Angela and the medical team will get here soon.” Hanzo told Jesse; it was more to reassure himself.

“Hey,” Jesse began slowly, controlling his breathing, “I’m sorry we didn’t stay out of trouble.” Jesse gave Hanzo a lazy grin.

“It is okay, Jesse.” Hanzo tried to smile back, but found it hard. He continued applying pressure.

 

xvi.

“Okay, thank you, Angela,” Sam hung up Hanzo’s phone. She sat in the passenger seat of Hanzo’s car, driving home, “Hanzo, Jesse is in stable condition.”

“Hm.” Hanzo hummed not taking his eyes off the road.

Sam could feel the tension in the air; after a long while of looking out the window Sam turned her attention to Hanzo, “You are mad, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Hanzo said sharply, “At McCree mostly, a little at you for not telling me.”

Sam looked down at her shoes, “I didn’t tell you because I saw you how looked at Jesse.”

“What do you mean?” Hanzo questioned.

“When you first took me to Jesse’s bar,” Sam said, “Your face lit up when we were with Jesse. And the other morning in the kitchen, you looked at him all soft; you really like him.”

“Nonsense,” Hanzo said.

Hanzo pulled in to the garage, where they were greeted by Genji practically flying out of the back door. “Thank god you two are alright!” Sam got out of the car and hugged Genji tight. “Angela told me to stay home because of how chaotic things were but it drove me nuts!”

“We are okay.” Hanzo said, before Genji yanked Hanzo into the hug with Sam.

“Did you go see Jesse?” Genji asked.

“No, not yet.” Hanzo answered, pulling out of the hug and going inside.

“What’s with him?” Genji asked.

“He’s mad at Jesse,” Sam explained, pulling away, “Jesse is The Mercenary; Hanzo is mad that Jesse didn’t tell him.”

“Oh.” Genji said.

Together, Genji and Sam went into the house where Hanzo was in the kitchen, attempting to cook. Hanzo didn’t get very far, after dropping a few pans he groaned in frustration. Genji walked into the kitchen and picked up the pan; Genji spoke in a low voice, and took over the cooking. Sam guessed Genji said something to the effect of letting him cook. Genji made ramen, the family recipe. He hoped that would it would cheer up Hanzo. Half-way through dinner Jack Morrison showed up. The group sat awkwardly in the living room; Hanzo had a frown on his face the entire time.

“Sam, I need your witness statement.” Jack said holding a file, opening it, “What happened at the river?”

“Well,” Sam began, “Jesse and I showed up around noon, we sat in the bed of the truck and were just enjoying the day. About fifteen minutes later, a bunch of Deadlock gang members showed up; Jesse told me to get in the truck. They seemed to know Jesse and they accused him of being The Mercenary--,” Jack interrupted Sam.

“I’m not going to sit here and have us all pretend like we don’t know who Jesse is.” Jack set down the file on the coffee table.

The three looked at Jack, “You know?”

“Yes,” Jack said, “Jesse isn’t subtle, the first report that described The Mercenary as something from a western I knew it had to be him.”

“How do you know Jesse?” Sam asked.

“Reyes made me promise to keep track of Jesse if anything ever happened.” Jack said, “After Reyes was killed, Jesse stayed with me for a while until he got on his feet.” Hanzo watched Jack’s face for a moment; Sam looked surprised.

Genji sat forward, “Okay, we all know Jesse is The Mercenary. Now, what are we gonna do to keep this covered up?”

“Cover it up?” Hanzo asked shocked. “Genji you cannot be serious. Jesse committed crimes.”

“Yeah and he also was the one who got Sam out of Deadlock.” Genji argued, “If it weren’t for him Sam could be still in Deadlock or worse.”

Hanzo opened his mouth to argue but quickly closed it and sat back. Sam looked between Hanzo and Jack, she was picking at her finger nails.

“Jack,” She said quietly, “We are going to help Jesse, right?”

“I’m going to do what I can.” Jack said.

.

“You got flowers for little old me?” Jesse sat upright in his hospital bed, grinning when Sam and Genji entered.

“Of course we brought you flowers,” Sam set the vase on Jesse’s side table and sitting on the edge of Jesse’s bed; Genji pulled up a chair next to them.

Jesse wrapped an arm around Sam and pulled her into a hug, “Thanks.”

“How are you feeling?” Genji asked.

“Hole-y.” Jesse let a wicked grin creep on his face.

“Jesse that is the worst joke ever.” Genji deadpanned.

Sam smiled, “I don’t know. I think it was pretty good.”

“Thanks for sticking up for me, kid.” Jesse ruffled Sam’s hair, “So when is Hanzo gonna swing by.” The smile fell from Genji’s face and Sam shifted awkwardly. Jesse got the message, “He’s not happy with me, is he?”

Sam shook her head, “No.”

“I figured so.” Jesse sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Is he gonna tell?”

Sam bit her lip and stole a quick glance at Genji. “I want to say no. But Genji, you know him better.”

“I don’t think Hanzo would ruin your life because he’s mad at you.” Genji said. “In the past, yes. But he’s a different person now. I wouldn’t worry about.”

Suddenly, the door to Jesse’s room opened, revealing Jack Morrison holding a bag from Barnes and Noble. Jesse seemed completely shocked that Jack came to visit him. Jack looked a little awkward, giving them all a small wave, “Hey.”

“Hey, Jack.” Sam smiled, waving back at Jack. Genji gave his own wave to Jack.

“Um,” Jack seemed to fumble, “Can I talk to Jesse alone?”

Genji and Sam nodded; Sam hopped off Jesse’s bed and gave him a kiss on the cheek, “See you later, Jesse.”

“See you later, squirt.” Jesse smiled, waving good-bye to Genji and Sam.

Jack stood awkward by the door for a moment after Sam and Genji left. Not knowing what to do since the two had not had a pleasant conversation in years. “Do you still read Louis L’Amour novels?” Jack asked holding out the Barnes and Noble bag.

A smile crept on to Jesse’s face, “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“It’s hard to forget, you like every damn thing having to do with the Old West.” Jack said, walking over and setting the bag down on the bed. “But I figured, with you in the hospital you’d want something to do.”

“Thanks, Jack.” Jesse wasted no time opening the sack and seeing what Jack brought him.

“You’re welcome, Jesse.” Jack remained standing and watched Jesse flip through the pages of one of the novels. Jack observed him before continuing, “Your love of westerns bled over to other activities, didn’t it?”

Jesse looked up with a harsh gaze, “You figured it out too, huh?”

“You don’t need to get mean with me, Jesse.” Jack said folding his arms. Jesse turned and looked back at the books; Jack continued, “You wanted to get revenge for Reyes, didn’t you?”

“At first that is all it was,” Jesse said, “Then when I realized just how much worse Deadlock got I thought my know how would help me stop them.”

“Why didn’t you come to the station?” Jack questioned.

“God, are you interrogating me?” Jesse replied, “You know, technically, you are supposed to tell me if you are interrogation me.”

“Jesse, don’t be ridiculous.” Jack said.

Jesse was quiet for a moment, “I didn’t come to you because I knew someone would connect the dots.”

Silence fell on them for a moment, Jack sighed, “I’m gonna figure out how to get you out of this. I’ll pull some strings and make sure you don’t get in any trouble. I’ll have to wait for Hanzo to get on board.” Jack uncrossed his arms and turned to leave.

Jack paused in the doorway, “You know, Jesse. Reyes would be proud of you. Taking on Deadlock, turning out to be a good man.”

“Really?” Jesse asked, “I always thought he’d be disappointed in me.”

“Nah,” Jack said, turning to look at Jesse; quiet for a beat before he continued, “I’m sorry for what I said. Blaming you for Reyes’ death was wrong.”

“It’s alright, Jack,” Jesse said, “We both lost someone important to us and said things we didn’t mean.”

Jack swallowed hard, nodding, “Yeah, we did.”

 

xvii.

Sam woke up in a sweat, bolting upright in bed. She took deep breaths trying to calm herself down. Images replayed in her head; nightmares about the man with skulls on his arms yanking her out of the truck, but in her dreams Sam doesn’t get out alive. Sam sat in bed, her knees to her chest, staring off at nothing for a while. Looking at the clock, Sam found it was two in the morning. It was an ungodly hour and Sam knew she wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep on her own.

Sam pulled herself out of bed, and padded out of her room, down the hall to Hanzo’s room. She hesitated at the threshold, just for a moment. Sam opened the door, slowly peaking in. Hanzo sat awake, reading though a file. Sam knew it was Jesse’s file. “Hanzo?” Sam asked quietly.

Hanzo looked up, “Sam? What are you doing up?”

“I could ask the same question,” Sam smiled and made her way into his room. Sam climbed into Hanzo’s bed without asking, and made herself comfy next to him. “I had a nightmare, about the guy who grabbed me.” Sam explained.

“You can stay in here.” Hanzo said, opening the file again. Sam was right, it was Jesse’s file. Hanzo read for a while before talking again, “He was seventeen when he was taken out of Deadlock.”

Sam looked up at Hanzo, “He was my age.”

“He was your age and he did twice as many things,” Hanzo’s tone was somber, “Did things twice as worse too.” Sam was quiet for a long time before she spoke again; Hanzo thought she might have fallen asleep.

“Genji was right,” Sam said quietly, “If Jesse hadn’t come along, who knows what would have happened to me…I got lucky.”

“Indeed, you did.” Hanzo said. He couldn’t help but feel grateful for what Jesse had done; in the very least, Jesse brought Sam into his life.

.

“Hey, brother,’ Genji poked his head into the kitchen, “I’m gonna take Sam to the arcade, okay?”

“Alright, don’t be out too late.” Hanzo answered, not looking up from the stir fry he was making.

Hanzo listened to Genji and Sam leave the house and the car leave the drive. He found it curious when he heard a car pull into the drive minutes later. Hanzo thought Sam might have forgotten something until there was a knock at the door. Hanzo turned down the heat on the food and walked to the front door. Unlocking it and opening it.

Normally, Hanzo would have peeked out the window to see who was there; if he had done it this time he would have not opened the door.

Jesse McCree stood on the front step. Jesse looked thinner than the last time Hanzo saw him—no doubt from stress and healing from three bullet wounds. Hanzo watched Jesse for a moment; he seemed happy to see Hanzo, but there was something else there too. Jesse seemed disappointed.

“Ya didn’t come and see me in the hospital,” Jesse said, watching Hanzo’s face.

Hanzo tried to stay steely, “No, I did not.”

“You are mad about The Mercenary thing, aren’t you?” Jesse asked.

Hanzo felt anger rise in his chest for a moment. Hanzo grabbed Jesse’s arm and yanked him inside. He didn’t want to make a scene in front of the neighbors. “Yes, I am still angry.” Hanzo spat out right away, “Do you know how long I spent on those cases, how much sleep I lost? Jack threatened to take me off the case because of you.” Hanzo placed an accusing finger in Jesse’s chest, who raised his hands in defense.

“Yes, tell my detective boyfriend that I committed several arsons.” Jesse let sarcasm seep into his voice, “That’s just a great idea.”

 “I am not your boyfriend.” Hanzo said, removing his finger from Jesse’s chest.

“Then what do you call our relationship?” Jesse asked.

“You are changing the subject.” Hanzo accused. “You did not tell me for more than just keeping yourself out of jail.”

“Fine,” Jesse gave, “I wanted to protect you. I knew if Deadlock figured out it was me, and they couldn’t get to me, they would go after someone they could get to.”

“I am fully capable of protecting myself.” Hanzo said.

“I know you can, Hanzo,” Jesse rubbed his brow, “I was gonna tell you eventually.”

“Eventually,” Hanzo frowned, “When was eventually going to be? After Jack took me off the case? After you got hurt?”

“I’m already hurt!” Jesse flared, “Or did you forget that two bullets and a shotgun blast hurt people?”

“I know you are hurt! If you had told me, I could have prevented you from getting hurt!” Hanzo flared up to match Jesse.

“I knew I could get hurt, I accepted that a long time ago!” Jesse shouted, “Why do you care so much?”

“Because, I love you, Jesse!”

Jesse went quiet, blinking, and surprised. It took Hanzo a minute to realize what he had said. The room was quiet, except for the sound of Hanzo’s dinner burning; Hanzo didn’t are about his dinner at the moment though, he was more worried about how Jesse would react. A smile broke out on Jesse’s face, “I love you too, Hanzo.”

Jesse pulled Hanzo in to a hug, and kissed his cheeks. Hanzo found himself smiling as he wrapped his arms around Jesse. Jesse tried to lift Hanzo off the ground but groaned and quickly set him down. “Be careful, Jesse,” Hanzo said, hands on Jesse’s shoulders, “Two bullets and a shotgun blast hurt you know.”

“Yeah it does.” Jesse laughed. Jesse looked at Hanzo, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. Hanzo pushed the hair out of his face and kissed him. Jesse was quick to respond, kissing Hanzo like his life depended on it; hands carding through Hanzo’s hair. Hanzo let Jesse guide him back to fall on to the sofa. Jesse winced when they landed.

“Are you okay?” Hanzo asked, lips brushing against Jesse’s.

“I’m just fine, darling,” Jesse pressed their lips together.

Hanzo lost himself in kissing Jesse. Hanzo barely noticed when Jesse’s hands traveled up his shirt. Hanzo barely noticed himself pressing closer to Jesse. Hanzo also barely noticed Sam and Genji returning home.

“They made up!” Sam exclaimed coming into the house.

“And then some.” Genji laughed.

Jesse sat up slowly, a grin plastered on his face.

xviii.

That night, in Hanzo’s dimly lit room, Jesse McCree told Hanzo everything. Jesse talked about being in Deadlock, and every horrible thing he did there. Jesse detailed Gabriel Reyes, an ATF agent, who yanked Jesse out of Deadlock and gave him a second chance; Gabriel Reyes who treated Jesse like a son.

“After Deadlock took out Reyes, Jack Morrison took me in,” Jesse spoke quietly, absent mindedly tracing the lines on Hanzo’s palm, “Jack and I were angry; we fought a lot. At the time, Jack blamed me for what happened to Reyes; said if Reyes hadn’t picked me up he wouldn’t be dead.

“After a few years of feeling bad for myself, I decided to do something; get revenge for Reyes I suppose. But after I got familiar with Deadlock again, I found things had gotten a lot worse since I had been there. It became more than just getting revenge, I had to plan and take them down.”

Hanzo watched Jesse’s face for a moment as he finished his story. Jesse looked more tired and worn than Hanzo has ever seen; it was like the stress of the years caught up with him thrown on top of getting shot three times.  Hanzo reached out and placed his hand on Jesse cheek, brushing his thumb over the freckles on Jesse’s skin.

“I am sorry for getting angry with you,” Hanzo said.

Jesse gave Hanzo a lazy smile, leaning into his touch, “Ya don’t need to be sorry, babe; you were just worried.”

“Still--,” Hanzo tried arguing, but Jesse interrupted him.

“Shush, don’t worry about it,” Jesse grasped Hanzo by his hips, pulling him across the bed into a tight hug. Jesse gave a small grunt from the exertion.

“Careful,” Hanzo warned, “You don’t want to worsen your wounds.”

“I’m fine,” Jesse smiled, kissing Hanzo’s cheek. Jesse dropped his voice to a devilish tone, “We can continue what we started on the couch.”

“We can when you are fully healed,” Hanzo said but did not pull away from Jesse, who pouted at Hanzo’s response.

“I might be in jail by then, sweetheart,” Jesse said, half-joking; he moved on to pressing his lips against Hanzo’s neck.

“You are not going to jail, Jesse.” Hanzo was sure in that statement, “Jack is going to come up with something. You are going to be just fine.”

.

The New Mexico State Police was breathing down Jack’s neck to wrap up The Mercenary case; even though The Mercenary’s sole reason for committing arsons was gone. The State PD did not really care, they wanted to keep him from resurfacing again. Things were getting tight for Jesse McCree.

Hanzo did not like having a state officer in his office, asking him endless questions. Her name was Ana Amari, a serious, powerful looking woman with white hair and an eyepatch and she asked Hanzo questions like she already knew the answer to them. At least she was a tolerable person to be around.

“Mr. Shimada, how long have you been working on this case?” Ana questioned, not even looking at her paperwork. She was making herself a cup of tea.

“I have on this case for seven months, though, the first arson was many years ago.” Hanzo answered.

“Why did you get placed on the case seven months ago when the first one was years ago?” Ana sipped from her mug.

“The arsons only became frequent seven months ago. Before, the arsons were every few years and were not considered to be a pressing issue.” Hanzo explained.

“Hm,” Ana hummed, “Interesting.”

Silence fell on the office for a moment before Hanzo spoke again, “You are aware that you could get all of this information from the file; I wrote very detailed reports.”

“I know,” Ana smiled. “But I like speaking to people.”

Hanzo frowned, he did not like speaking to people. Especially people who wanted Jesse locked up.

“So, have ya come up with a plan yet?” Jesse asked, planting himself on the edge of Jack’s desk. All of the state officers have gone home for the evening and they were alone in the station. Hanzo sat in one of the spare chairs, arms folded over his chest; he was worried.

“I do have a plan, but before we discuss any plans, we need to cover all of our bases.” Jack said, “If we are going to cover something up, we need to go all the way up to the state level.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?” Hanzo asked.

“I’ve got a friend.” Jack said. He raised his voice, “Ana, you can come in.”

Hanzo did not expect Ana Amari to walk through the door; but she did, with a big smile on her face, “Hello, Jack.”

“Ana!” Jesse all but shouted in excitement, rushing over to give the small woman a hug.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, Jesse. Have you grown?” she asked with a smile, happily returning the hug.

Hanzo looked at Jack, “Explain.”

“Ana Amari is good friends with me, was friends with Gabriel and a practically a mom to Jesse.” Jack said. “Ana would be more than willing to help us.”

Hanzo looked at Jesse and Ana; they were happily chatting like old friends, not like they were going to determine Jesse’s fate. But Hanzo could not keep himself from smiling a little. Jesse was so happy to see this woman.

“And how’s Fareeha?” Jesse asked, “I haven’t seen that squirt in years.”

“She is going well,” Ana answered, “Fareeha is in Egypt staying with her grandparents while she is studying.”

“I’d hate to interrupt.” Jack began, “But you’ll have plenty of time to catch up when we assure that Jesse isn’t going to jail.”

“Right, right.” Ana said taking a seat by Hanzo; she gave him a happy hello, Hanzo gave her a smile in return.

“Now, how we are going to do this,” Jack stood up from his desk, “All evidence is going to be lost, rendering further investigation nearly impossible. Ana is going to make sure the state doesn’t get too interested in pressing further investigation.”

Ana nodded, “There are already stirrings of a gang in Arizona that wants to expand; much more worthy of our attention.”

“Alright,” Jesse said, “Sounds simple enough, but how are you going to lose evidence?”

“All evidence is logged and stored in a monitored warehouse,” Hanzo added, “It is not like we can walk in there are throw it away.”

“No, we can’t,” Jack turned to Jesse, “How do you feel about burning another warehouse?”

Jesse seemed to contemplate the question, rubbing his chin for a moment. “I think I got one more fire in me.”

 

xix.

Hanzo should have not been surprised when Jesse showed up at the warehouse in his black duster, bandana and hat. Of course, Jesse McCree would wear his disguise to his last arson. “Is the get up necessary?” Hanzo asked, looking Jesse up and down.

“Yes it is, I’ve worn it since my first one,” Hanzo was sure Jesse was smirking under the bandana, “besides, I think I look very handsome in this.” Jesse did a turn showing off his look, proud of himself.

Hanzo smiled slightly, “Tall, dark and handsome.”

“So, you agree?” Jesse teased; he stepped closer to Hanzo.

“In your dreams, cowboy.” Hanzo looked up, his nose brushed against Jesse’s cloth covered one. He felt Jesse’s breath hitch and Hanzo smirked, “You better get to work before the sun rises.”

“Oh, babe, you are so mean to me.” Jesse gave Hanzo a fake pout before going to work.

Jesse picked up the gas canister and doused the corner of the building the gas. There was no need to do the whole building; The Mercenary’s evidence was stored in the back corner, with the closed cases. Jesse took out the book of matches, lit one and tossed it in the gas before walking back to Hanzo, who watched him every step of the way. Jesse pulled down his bandana, revealing his wild grin, “Like what you see?”

“I think I see why people are attracted to cowboys now,” Hanzo mused, grabbing the lapels of Jesse’s duster, gently pulling him close.

“Oh yeah?” Jesse asked tilting his head down to look Hanzo in the eye.

“Some of them are very handsome.” Hanzo watched Jesse’s face, illuminated by the growing flames before pressing their lips together with a passion. To which, Jesse responded immediately, pulling Hanzo closer to him.

Jesse broke away after a moment, grinning ear to ear, “Why don’t we continue this at home, darling? Before the fire department shows up.”

“Good plan.” Hanzo nodded.

.

“Damn, Sam. That looks like it hurt.” Jesse held Sam’s wrist out so he could inspect her new tattoo. Technically, an addition to a tattoo.

The word Rebel still stood on Sam’s inner forearm, but now a dragon, not unlike Hanzo’s, joined it. The simple, black dragon wrapped around itself down Sam’s arm; its body seemed to curl around the word Rebel, and disappeared behind the lettering. The dragon had its teeth bared, fierce and defiant.

Sam smiled and answered Jesse, “It did hurt, but I think it’s worth it. Ya know, having a good memory on my arm instead of a bad one.”

“I feel ya there,” Jesse said, reaching to ruffle her hair.

“Hey,” Hanzo scolded, “Did you know how long it took me to help her with that?” Hanzo asked, striding into the living room while trying to tie his tie.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Jesse said with a smile. “It still looks good though.”

Hanzo let out a frazzled huff, giving up on the tie, “Sam, could you please go put on your dress and finish getting ready. I don’t want to be late.”

“Yes, dad,” Sam’s tone was teasing as she got off the couch and started to her room, “I don’t think you can be late to a function where you are one of the guests of honor.” Sam stated before getting a look from Hanzo. She just grinned.

Jesse walked over to Hanzo and took his still loose tie into his hands, “I think you need to chill a little, darling.” Jesse said, turning the fabric in his hands, slowly tying the tie.

“It is a little hard,” Hanzo replied, “I did not expect Jack Morrison to decide to retire and promote me to chief.”

“Yeah, but it’s a well-deserved promotion,” Jesse secured the knot in the tie, sliding it into place at Hanzo’s collar. Both men were dressed to the nines, for a banquet celebrating Jack’s retirement and Hanzo’s promotion. Hanzo was impressed by how well Jesse cleaned up. Fitted blue suit, his hair slicked back, and beard trimmed; Jesse wasn’t even wearing his dirty cowboy boots.

“I suppose,” Hanzo said as he watched Jesse suddenly pat his pockets and fish in them for something, “What are you doing?”

“I almost forgot,” Jesse explained, “I got ya something. It’s not much but…” Jesse trailed off as he produced a ring from his pocket, holding it out for Hanzo to take.

Hanzo carefully took the ring from Jesse and turned it over in his fingers. The ring was silver, with no adornments on the band; simple and straight forward. Hanzo looked from the ring to Jesse. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Um, it can be whatever you want it to be,” Jesse said, rubbing the back of his head. He looked at Hanzo, almost bashful, “But I was hoping that it could be, ya know, an engagement ring.” Hanzo looked once more at the ring; Jesse thought he hesitated, “It doesn’t have to be if yo--,”

Hanzo promptly slid the ring on to his left ring finger and Jesse shut up quick, looking at him with wide eyes. The ring fit perfectly and Hanzo smiled. “Yes, Jesse McCree.”


End file.
